


Meet the Boyfriend

by DelilahMcMuffin



Series: Meet the Brewers [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Awkward parental moments, Best Friends, Boys In Love, Coming Out, Feels, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Meeting the Parents, Panic Attacks, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-01 04:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/pseuds/DelilahMcMuffin
Summary: An elaboration on some of the scenes from Meet the Parents. This is a terrible summary, but I promise (hope?!?) the story will be much better.Chapter 1 - Marcy.Chapter 2 - David.Chapter 3 - Stevie.Chapter 4 - Patrick.Spoilers for Season 5 Episode 11 - Meet the Parents





	1. Marcy

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm actually planning a surprise party for his birthday and I thought it might be nice to have you and Mr. Brewer there. If... if you want. For the party... A-and to see Patrick and the store and..." he coughed to clear his throat, "And I'd really like to meet you."
> 
> Marcy thought it was an odd thing to say. Did business partners usually meet one another's parents? Was that a thing?

* * *

Marcy and Clint Brewer sat in stunned silence on the foot of the bed in a strange little hotel room in a strange little town. Marcy opened her mouth to speak but closed it, deciding instead to wring her hands.

"How could we not know?" she heard her husband ask, more to himself than to her. "How could he not tell us?"

Marcy sighed, wishing she could think of a satisfactory answer. "I don't know," she replied with a shake of her head. "I don't know how these things work... I mean, maybe..." she swallowed, not wanting to voice the words but knowing that they were words they needed to consider. "Maybe he was scared. Maybe he thought we wouldn't... we couldn't..." Her voice trailed off and she clasped her hands together in her lap.

"Do you remember when Amy and Mark's son came out to them?" Clint asked and Marcy nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

"They threw him out of the house," she said sadly, not for the first time wondering how any parent could turn their back on their child like that simply because of the gender of the person they loved.

"Patrick doesn't..." Clint began, and Marcy could hear the emotion in his voice. "You don't think he thinks _we_ would do that to him, do you?"

She felt him shift on the bed beside her and she turned toward him. His eyes were wide with concern. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

"He knows we love him no matter what," she assured her husband. "I think that deep down, he knows we would never do anything so cruel. But," she sighed, lacing her fingers with Clint's and resting her head on his shoulder, "I also think a lot of kids who expect to receive love and acceptance from their families are unpleasantly surprised with the reaction they do get."

"We were good parents though, right?"

"We did our best for our boy," Marcy agreed. "I'm never one for tooting my own horn, but I think that Patrick has turned into a fine young man if I do say so myself. And I know we can't take all the credit for that, but we can take some comfort in knowing we must have done something right."

Clint gave her hand a squeeze and nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head.

"Thanks honey. I needed to hear that."

"So," Marcy said, sitting up straight, facing her husband and clapping her hands together. "David."

"David," Clint echoed, nodding his head. "What do we know about David?"

Marcy reached into her purse and pulled out the smart phone Patrick had sent her for Christmas.

_"So we can Skype and you don't have to both try cram yourselves into that little corner where you put the computer," Patrick had explained via telephone on Christmas morning. "You can sit on the couch, on the patio... where ever you want. It'll be just like I'm there."_

Smiling at the memory, Marcy brought up the web browser and pulled up the website for Rose Apothecary. The homepage was tasteful, in hues of greys and off-white.

_"Sand and stone," Patrick corrected her when she commented on the colours during one of their phone calls. "David doesn't believe in boring old white and grey."_

There was a short "About Us" blurb that talked about how the store came into being - a combination of David's original idea and creative vision and Patrick's business savvy coming together in a unique retail experience that brought the beautiful wares of local artisans into the heart of the community. And while Marcy loved the story behind the store, she did find the website a tad impersonal, giving few details about either David or Patrick's private lives. She wondered now if that was by design, as Patrick would have known his parents would be checking in on the website from time to time.

When Patrick had told them that he was leaving his relatively new position with Ray to pursue a new business venture with a partner, naturally his parents had been both curious and a little bit concerned. When he'd told them his new partner's name, Marcy was ashamed to admit that she'd had her doubts. Even she knew how to use the Google, and there had been a time not so many years ago that barely a day went by that the exploits of the immensely wealthy Rose family didn't grace the cover of one tabloid magazine or another. And while she had to admit that the majority of the tabloid fodder surrounded his sister Alexis and their mother Moira, she knew she'd seen the name David Rose come up from time to time. She worried about the kind of person her son was getting into business with.

Patrick had been fairly mum about David right from the beginning, praising his ideas and his ability to bring that vision to life. But when they'd asked what he was really like, Patrick had gone quiet and had seemed almost... nervous?

When Johnny Rose had inadvertently outed Patrick that morning, Marcy had automatically thought that this was a relatively new development between the two young men. But looking back, she could see now that Patrick had been distinctly wary of talking too much about David right from the start. He'd tell long, involved stories about the residents of the quirky little town he now called home, but when the topic of David would come up he would either change the subject or end the call shortly thereafter. At the time, Marcy had thought that perhaps the two of them didn't get along well outside of their business partnership.

She now knew this to be very, very far from the truth.

Scrolling down further on their store's website, there was a lovely picture of the two of them taken in front of the Rose Apothecary not long after they'd opened. Patrick's smile was wide and friendly, and his entire demeanor seemed so open and much happier than he'd been when she'd last seen him as he loaded up his car to begin his new life far away from his home town. He was in drastic contrast to David who was tall, dark, and very handsome in a stark, austere kind of way. Despite his slightly intimidating appearance, he did show the very beginnings of a lopsided smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

In the picture, Patrick was wearing one of the blue button down shirts and a pair of the dark denim jeans she had bought for him in bulk from the local men's work wear outlet before he'd left home. David, on the other hand, was dressed all in black, wearing a kind of drapey, complicated-looking sweater-type-thing... or was it a dress? Whatever it was, it came down to his mid-thigh, above tight black jeans with holes arfully torn at the knees. On his feet were black sneakers - Chucks, she thought she'd heard a salesperson at the mall call them once - with white laces that were laced perfectly symmetrically and wrapped around his ankles, each topped with a perfectly looped bow. It all looked very expensive. And very unapproachable.

David didn't look at all like he sounded, Marcy mused. His voice was higher than she'd expected it to be based on his picture, at times ranging from sing-songy to almost breathless. She thought back to the conversation they'd had not too long ago; in fact, the conversation that had led them to this very hotel room.

_"Hello, Rose Apothecary. David speaking."_

_"Hi David, it's Marcy Brewer; Patrick's mother."_

_His tone changed from one of business-like efficiency to one laced with warmth. "Oh, hi Mrs. Brewer! I'm sorry, you just missed Patrick. He left a few minutes ago to go to the bank and to get lunch."_

_"Oh, that's alright David," she said, waiving off his apology. "We can catch him some other time. You boys are always so busy!"_

_She heard David chuckle softly. "It's a problem we're happy to have," he replied. "It means business is good!"_

_"Well, I'll let you get back to it, dear," she began, but David interjected._

_"Um, Mrs. Brewer?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Um... I was wondering if you and Mr. Brewer have any plans for the first weekend of next month."_

_Marcy furrowed her brow, trying to visualize the calendar hung on the wall beside the refrigerator._

_"I don't know," she pondered aloud. "Probably not, other than of course we'll want to do the Skype with Patrick on his birthday. Why?"_

_"Um," David began, and she could hear the hesitation in his voice, "I'm actually planning a surprise party for his birthday and I thought it might be nice to have you and Mr. Brewer there. If... if you want. For the party... A-and to see Patrick and the store and..." he coughed to clear his throat, "And I'd really like to meet you."_

_Marcy thought it was an odd comment. Did business partners usually meet one another's parents? Was that a thing? On the other hand, she knew from conversations with Patrick that he had become more and more involved with members of the Rose family. Moira had cast him in her production of Cabaret, along with their daughter Alexis and the girl with a boy's name that Marcy couldn't quite remember who worked with Mr. Rose at the motel. So with Patrick ingraining himself more and more with his family, perhaps David just wanted a chance to even the playing field a bit._

_"A surprise party!" Marcy exclaimed. "Oh, Patrick would love that! What a nice idea, David."_

_"Well, when I asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday, he was pretty unhelpful," David laughed, suddenly sounding a lot more confident. "He said he wanted to do something 'low-key'," David scoffed with a note of such amused disdain in his voice that Marcy could practically hear the air quotes around the words. "It's like he doesn't know me at all."_

_"We were never able to pull off a surprise party for him," Marcy cautioned. "He's just too-"_

_"Observant," David finished flatly, earning a chuckle from Marcy._

_"My boy is nothing if not detail-oriented, it's true," she agreed._

_"It's usually one of the things I like most about him. But right now it's just maddeningly unhelpful," David huffed in mock annoyance. "That's another reason I'd love for you and Mr. Brewer to be here," he continued. "If this whole surprise party idea comes crashing down around me, at least I'll have the two of you in my back pocket. That should earn me a few brownie points at least."_

_What a strange thing to say about your business partner, Marcy thought. But thinking back to all of Patrick's stories about Moira Rose and her linguistical gymnastics, she supposed that perhaps the apple didn't fall far from the tree in this regard._

_"I'll check with Clint and we'll let you know as soon as we can," she promised. "But I'm pretty sure we can make it work."_

_"That's great, thank you," David said and Marcy could hear the excitement creeping into his voice. "Just let me know and I'll make all the arrangements for you. Oh!" he paused, "I should give you my cell number just in case. Do you text? Or do you prefer email? Or maybe just phone calls?"_

_"Texting is fine, David," Marcy assured him. "But text me. Clint has a phone but he has trouble with texing. His fingers are too big."_

_"You're more advanced than my mother," David mused. "I got her a phone for her birthday a few years ago so she could keep in touch with my dad when she had to go on location shoots. My dad made her send me a text to thank me. It took her 45 minutes and all I got from her was a question mark."_

_Marcy smiled to herself as David elaborated on his parents' infrequent and always disastrous encounters with technology. She realized it was by far the longest conversation she'd ever had with the young man. He was nothing like she had made him out to be in her head. She'd assumed he would be haughty and aloof, and perhaps he had started out that way. But as he had warmed up to her over the past few months it became very clear that he was very charming and easy to talk to with a distinctly original view of the world around him. And she thought it was very sweet of him to go to all this effort to plan a party for his business partner, even going so far as to invite his parents. They were obviously better friends than Patrick had lead her and Clint to believe._

_After hanging up, Marcy informed Clint of David's plans and they agreed to make the journey to see their son for his birthday. She sent David a text letting him know and confirmed the dates they would need to book a room somewhere in town._

_David texted back almost immediately._

_ **Looking forward to finally meeting you both. Hotel is on me. D** _

Looking back at that conversation now, there were so many clues that seemed to scream at Marcy that David and Patrick's relationship went far deeper than her son had lead them to believe.

David wasn't going out of his way to throw a party for his busines partner. He was doing this for his _partner _partner. Or was Patrick his boyfriend? Marcy wasn't sure what terms the kids were using these days. No matter what label they used, it made Marcy's heart swell at the thought that Patrick had someone in his life that cared enough about him to go through all this effort. It wasn't easy keeping a secret from Patrick, and David must have had to move mountains to keep everything under wraps for so long.

"Clint?"

"Yeah, Marce?"

"I think David is in love with Patrick."

"I was thinking something similar myself," he confessed. "So, how long do you think this has been going on for?"

Marcy shrugged, tucking her phone back into her purse. "Long enough," she replied. She was just about to suggest that they freshen up after their long drive and maybe have a quick nap when something that had been niggling in the back of her mind began to materialize into a more substantial thought.

"Do you think David knows?" she asked.

Clint furrowed his brow. "Knows what?"

"That we didn't know?"

Clint raised his eyebrows and blew out his cheeks with a shake of his head. "Would he have invited us if he did?" he asked. "Unless this is a very passive-aggressive way of forcing Patrick out of the closet - which I doubt," he added quickly, seeing the disbelieving expression on his wife's face.

"I don't think that's something he would do, do you?"

"No," Clint admitted.

They lapsed into silence once more.

"Poor David," Marcy muttered to herself.

Clint hummed his agreement. "Poor kid. He works up the nerve to ask us to come only to find out that his, um, boyfriend? Partner?" he pauses, clearly as uncertain as Marcy as to what label they should be using. "...whichever. He's going to find out that Patrick's kept us in the dark. And if that's the case, it's going to feel like a wrecking ball to the stomach, that's for sure." Clint shook his head sadly.

Marcy patted his knee reassuringly. "Before we get carried away, I think we should talk to them first. We need to give Patrick a chance to clear the air and make things right himself."

Clint was about to reply when there was a soft knock on the door. Marcy gave his knee another little squeeze and got to her feet.

The handsome young man on the doorstep had all the same features as the austere and elegant man in the photo on the store's website. His nearly jet black hair was swept up into a perfect coif, and if she wasn't mistaken he was wearing the exact same sweater... dress... thing. But his dark brown eyes and expressive mouth and eyebrows were pinched with anxiety.

"Mrs. Brewer. Mr. Brewer," he nodded at each of them, clutching the beautiful basket in his arms as if it were a life raft and the only thing keeping him from sinking. "I'm David Rose."

He said it almost as if it were an apology. Marcy's heart went out to him and she stepped back to invite him in.

He presented her with the gift basket and once Marcy turned to find a place to put it, finally settling on a small side table before turning her attention back to David.

"I just wanted to come here to apologize for a very unfortunate miscommunication -"

"So you're not in a relationship with our son?" Clint inquired, confused.

"Oh no, I very much am," David breathed, wringing his hands, clearly flustered. "I was talking more about how you found out."

"Was it something we did, David?" Clint asked, and Marcy wanted to shoot daggers at him with her eyes. The poor boy was obviously here to try and smooth over what for all he knew could be a potentially catastrophic situation. Pointed questions like that were more likely to spook David than anything else, and Marcy wanted to be able to sort this out as calmly and rationally as possible.

"I'm sorry?" David asked nervously.

"Honey, stop..." Marcy hissed at her husband.

"No, I want to ask," Clint replied firmly getting to his feet and taking a step toward David, who took a countering step backward. "Do you think if we'd done things differently -"

"I understand that this news can come as a shock to some people," David interjected, his voice rising and his hands held out in front of him as if to protect himself. "But he's still the same person. And i-it's his birthday and he..."

Marcy's heart went out to him. He was practically trembling now, and she knew that he had come here not knowing what to expect, but prepared put himself squarely between Patrick and any negative reaction they might have.

"David, we're not upset about Patrick being gay," she rushed to assure him, wanting to put an end to his misery as quickly as possible.

David's eyes flicked over to Clint, begging for confirmation.

"No," Clint agreed with a slight shake of his head.

"_Ohmygod_," David sighed,the pent up tension and anxiety leaving his body so quickly that Marcy was afraid he might collapse. "Okay," he breathed, a tiny smile breaking out on his handsome face. "For a minute I thought this was going to get very dark." He cleared his throat and surreptitiously swiped at an errant tear that had escaped from his eye.

In that moment Marcy thought she'd ever seen anyone more in need of a hug than David Rose. Her arms itched to pull him to her and bundle him up in a protective embrace.

"The thought that Patrick felt that he couldn't come and talk to us about this," Clint began by way of explanation.

"Is it because we were so close with Rachel?" Marcy offered.

Before David could respond there was another knock at the door. David turned and pulled it open. "Hi," he said, his tone seemingly confused.

"David!" Marcy heard the surprise in Johnny Rose's voice at finding his son in their room. "Oh, hi!" David stood back to let him in and Johnny nodded at them in greeting. "Hi Clint. Marcy. I see uh, you've met my son." Marcy smiled her greeting and nodded. Clint did the same.

Johnny turned to his son and said, in a voice louder than was probably necessary, "How are you David? Happy, I hope." Marcy had to smile at David's barely contained eye roll. "Uh, 'cause at the end of the day, that's all that matters, isn't it?" He looked to Marcy and Clint for confirmation.

"Dad, it's fine," David said before his father could meander any further down the awkward little path he'd started on. "Th-they are fine with Patrick being gay."

Marcy smiled warmly at David, then at his father, nodding her head. Relief washed over Johnny's features. "Oh! Oh, good. Good!" he exclaimed. "Then no one really has to feel bad about about how this information came out then."

David grimaced, clearly not entirely on the same page as his father.

"So what do we do now?" Marcy asked, looking from David to Clint, then back to David. "Not go to the party? I-I don't want to make him uncomfortable."

"No, no, no. We are all going to the party," David declared with a note of finality in his voice. Then his tone softened. "Patrick is planning on telling you tonight," he confided. "So I think that the best birthday gift we could give him at this point is to just... keep him in the closet until then."

Clint covered his mouth with his hand and Marcy bit her lip. Realizing his choice of words may have been less than ideal, David pressed on. "I know that came out wrong, but we all understand what I'm saying, right?"

"Okay," Marcy nodded enthusiastically, glad that she would still get to see her son after all. And even more glad that David was willing to work so hard to ensure that Patrick the chance he needed to come out to his parents in his own way, with his own words. She watched David release sigh of relief. But she could still see the myriad of emotions churning just under the surface.

As Johnny and Clint began to chat, Marcy moved closer to David.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He took a shaky breath and gave her a timid smile. "It's been a tough day," he admitted quietly. "But, um... I am really glad you're here. Thank you for coming and for being so... so understanding."

"David?"

"Hmm?"

"Feel free to say no," Marcy prefaced, watching his expression turn wary. "But I'd really like to give you a hug. May I?"

He stared at her for a moment, looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights. He chewed his lip thoughtfully before giving a nearly imperceptable nod of his head.

Smiling, Marcy opened her arms and he stepped into them. He was so stiff at first, as if the entire concept of a hug was completely foreign to him. But Marcy rubbed comforting circles between his shoulder blades, just as she had always done for Patrick when he was small and hurting. She smiled into his shoulder as she felt him relax, melting into her embrace and pressing his face against her neck. She wondered how long it had been since his own mother had hugged him like this - if ever. From what Patrick had told them about Moira Rose, she was one to show her fondness for people through words, but was not an overtly affectionate person herself. Marcy silently vowed that she would make sure that David got all the hugs he could ever want - if he wanted them - from her.

His arms tightened around her and she continued rubbing his back soothingly while she cooed motherly words of reassurance in his ear.

"Oh, my sweet boy. My brave, sweet boy," she murmured. She felt his tears, warm and wet on her neck, and she felt him tremble slightly before he finally let out a quiet, choking sob. "Thank you for looking after my Patrick."

She held him like that for what seemed like ages. Finally David sniffled and his arms loosened their hold on her. He began to pull away but before he could make a full retreat, Marcy reached up and took his face in her hands, gently wiping away his tears with the pads of her thumbs.

"You're a good, kind man, David," she said. "And Patrick is so lucky to have found you."

"Oh God," he laughed shakily, taking a step away from her. He flicked his eyes skyward and fanned his face with his hands, clearly trying to stave off another bout of tears. "I am such a mess."

"You look fine, son," Johnny said, appearing at his son's side and clapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder and receiving a dramatic eyeroll in response.

"I look puffy and awful," David asserted, pulling his phone from his pocket and flipping to the camera app. He touched the screen to switch to the front-facing camera and gasped at the digital image of his face. "Oh my God, these bags under my eyes could pass for carry-on luggage," he said forelornly before pocketing his phone with a sigh.

He scrubbed his hands bracingly over his face before giving Marcy and Clint a self-deprecating smile. "While I'd love to stay and cry some more, I feel like I am already dangerously dehydrated," he declared with a grimace. "I've still got a lot to do this afternoon, and now I have to do something about this dumpster fire," his hand waved a circle in front of his face.

"Okay. We'll see you tonight," Clint said, sliding his arm around Marcy's shoulders. "7:30?"

David nodded. "Do you need directions to the cafe?" he asked.

"We've got the map you sent," Clint assured him. "Although I'm not sure we'll need it... isn't everything in this town pretty much on the one street?"

David smiled. "Oh, so you _have_ been here before," he deadpanned, earning a grin from Clint. "Okay, then I guess I'll see you both tonight. Dad?"

He raised an eyebrow inquiringly at this father and inclined his head toward the door in a none-too subtle hint that they should leave the Brewers in peace. But his son's subtlety was lost on Johnny.

"Quite the turn of events, eh?" he said with a chuckle. "Lots to do though," he continued without making the slightest effort to move toward the door. "Gotta help my son get ready for your son's party," he pressed on. "Because they're... you know... _romantically _in business together," he said in what Marcy was coming to think of as his awkwardly charming sort of way.

"Oh my God, Dad! _Ew_!" David's exasperated voice rose in pitch and volume and he looked aghast. "Will you please stop saying that?!?"

Johnny grinned at them and gave the Brewers a _'Kids; am I right?' _kind of of shrug before he turned and followed David out the door.

Marcy and Clint stood silent and still for a moment, trying to process all that had just happened.

They slowly turned to one another and when their eyes met they both let out bursts of relieved laughter.

"That went well," Client said, pulling Marcy into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"He's wonderful," Marcy sighed happily. "I can see why Patrick likes him so much."

Clint nodded thoughtfully, then cocked his head to the side and squinted. "Was he... was that a dress he was wearing? Or a sweater?"

Marcy giggled and tightened her hold around Clint's waist. "Does it matter?" she asked.

"Not one bit," he replied.

* * *


	2. David

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I mean, what? Do they think I'm just his business partner?"
> 
> Now that he'd said it out loud, it was so obvious. So fucking obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've had this chapter written for a while. It was actually the very first thing I wrote for Schitt's Creek, but I wasn't ready to post it until I'd had a chance to write the first chapter of this story and see David a little more composed, and then drop back to him being the big, adorable mess that we all know and love.
> 
> Spoilers for Season 5 Episode 11 - Meet the Parents
> 
> Warning for: Panic attack. If that's a trigger for you, maybe just skip this chapter and come back later :)

* * *

_"I mean, what? Do they think I'm just his business partner?"_

Now that he'd said it out loud, it was so obvious. So fucking obvious.

The icy grip of fear clutched at David's chest. _Fuck no. Not now. Not today. Oh my fucking god! _

He could feel beads of cold sweat beginning to gather at his hairline, trickling down his neck. He knew from the expressions on his father's and Stevie's faces that he'd gone perilously pale. He couldn't breathe. His lungs weren't working. He felt lightheaded.

This wasn't _happening_. This _wasn't _happening. _This wasn't happening._

It had been months since David had had a panic attack. His life had become so calm, so perfect. Patrick had instilled a sense of balance into his life that he had never dared to dream was possible. He had been so happy this morning. All of his planning had led up to what was supposed to be a perfect day for Patrick. And now, suddenly, everything was going so very, very wrong and he felt so, so helpless. And it was no one's fault but his own.

How could he not have know? How could Patrick have kept this from him? How could he have kept his family from knowing about David? _Was he ashamed? _Of course he was. David was a million miles from what Patrick's parents wanted for their son. They'd wanted him to marry that adorable little red-head. Why on earth would be they be okay with Patrick being in a relationship with a walking catastrophe like David? He was selfish, arrogant, needy, rude and condescending. _And _he was a man.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the tears that stung the corners of his eyes. He swallowed the sob that threatened to escape his throat. He had to get out of here. He was _not _going to break down here, in the middle of the Cafe in front of Stevie and his father and fucking Twyla, of all people.

"David, are you okay?" Stevie's voice was soft, the sardonic tone they usually reserved for one another gone completely. He felt a timid hand on his arm and he angrilly swatted it away.

"I'm fine," he snapped, his voice clipped and tight. "I have to go."

He shouldered past them, eyes downcast. He didn't want to see their expressions, the pity he knew would be there. Poor David. _Poor stupid David. _Pushing out the front door, he stood, blinking in the bright sunlight, his mind reeling. He did not want to go back to the hotel. Alexis would be there. His mother would be there; neither of them equipped to deal with the panic and anguish rising inside of him.

Right now, he wanted Patrick. Patrick was the one person who could always talk him down from whatever ledge he'd worked himself onto. He would hold David and whisper calm, loving words in his ear. He would assure David that everything was going to be alright.

But everything was not going to be alright. David had stupidly assumed that his boyfriend of nearly two years had told his parents about the important relationship they were in together. Instead, he'd let David chat happily to them, week after week, neither party realizing that they were missing an integral piece of information. No, right now Patrick was the one person he absolutely could not turn to. Because Patrick was the reason his anxiety was currently spiralling out of control.

He stumbled across the intersection, his eyes blurred with tears he would not allow himself to shed in public. A car honked it's horn, and David realized he had blindly stepped out into the street without bothering to be aware of the traffic around him. He didn't care. He needed to get somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. And there was only one place in this godforsaken town outside of Patrick's arms that made him feel safe.

He turned the key in the lock and stepped into the cool quiet of Rose Apothecary, turning the deadbolt behind him. He left the lights off and made sure the closed sign was still neatly in place before he staggered around the counter, dropping his keys and his phone on the worn wooden surface and pushed through the curtain, pressing his back against the wall in the tiny vestibule he and Patrick used as a storage and break room. He slid down the wall until his backside hit the floor with a thud, pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, making himself as small as possible. He scrunched up his face and let his forehead rest against his folded arms, finally letting his tears flow. His breathing hitched and he let out the anguished sob he'd been holding in for so long.

How many times had he spoken to the Brewers? He'd lost count months ago. He thought back over their conversations. Had there ever been a hint, an inference, that they knew that he and Patrick were more than business partners? He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until spots began to form behind his eyelids. Of course not. He'd been so stupid to assume. He'd spoken to them when Patrick had been out running errands, or stuck assisting a customer, and the Brewers had always been polite and pleasant; inquiring after himself and his family. Asking about the store, and how Patrick was adjusting to his new life in Schitt's Creek. But never once had the conversation veered toward him and Patrick in any way other than as friends and colleagues. David could see that now.

He scrubbed at his face with his hands, desperately trying to take enough air into his lungs. He felt like he was drowning, like his chest was full of wet cement. His heart ached and he made a pitiful, keening noise in the back of his throat.

How could he have been so blind? He has assumed that because Patrick was so free and open about their relationship here, with the people who had become a part of their everyday lives, that he would be just as free and open with his own family and friends from home. David knew that Patrick had been very close with his family, and had been working hard to rebuild his relationship with them after he abruptly called off his engagement to Rachel and disappeared to start a new life in Schitt's Creek. But for some reason, Patrick had not felt comfortable enough to tell his family that a big part of the new life he had built for himself was a long-term, loving and committed relationship that happened to be with a man. With the man they pleasantly chatted with on the phone at least once a week.

David sighed and swiped miserably at his eyes, the panic in his chest subsiding, replaced with a hollow, sorrowful ache. David remembered how it had felt, living in the closet. He'd been much younger when he realized he was different, and the fact that his family really didn't seem to care what he did or who he did it with didn't stop him from agonizing for months before he finally worked up the courage to unburden himself and confide in them about his sexuality. And when he'd said the words to them - "I'm pansexual" - he felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his chest.

"Duh, David," Alexis had rolled her eyes and gone back to playing on her phone.

"Of course you are, my darling," his mother had trilled, straightening a new wig on her head and giving him a dazzling smile. "You can be whatever you want to be."

His father was the only one who seemed to have any concerns. "Couldn't you just pick a gender, son? Wouldn't it be easier?"

David had nodded. "It might be easier," he agreed. "But not better. I like who I like. I can't help it."

And that was that. Although David had not been particularly close with his family at the time, he realized now that he'd needed their understanding and acceptance, and he'd needed to ask for that understanding and acceptance in his own time, in his own way. And they'd given it without a second thought; no questions asked. Not once in all the years since he'd come out had they ever been unsupportive of his choices. Sure, sometimes they didn't like the people he dated - David realized now that he hadn't really like most of the people he'd dated - but it had never been about gender. It had been because the person was bad for David; using him for his money or his connections or his body.

Since they'd arrived in Schitt's Creek, circumstances had caused them to become cloesr. They were no longer a collection of strangers that occasionally shared the same house, but something almost resemnling an actual family now. And his family loved Patrick. Patrick was good for David. Patrick made David want to be a better person, a _nicer _person. A person Patrick would be proud to call his partner, his boyfriend.

Patrick was the best thing that had ever happened to David. His mother had said it so clearly. "He sees you for all that you are."

Getting to his feet, David pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger and took a deep, calming breath before brushing the remaining tears from his eyes. He reached for a tissue, blowing his nose before he checked his reflection in the mirror hung on the wall over the small sink in the kitchenette, frowning at his slotchy complexion and puffy, red-rimmed eyes. He opened a drawer and took out a bottle of eye drops, tilting his head back and flooding his eyes with the saline solution, blinking rapidly to get rid of the worst of the redness.

He splashed a few handfuls of icy cold water on his face, gasping at the much needed jolt to his system before he dabbed gently at his skin with a towel. He gave himself a hard look in the mirror, willing himself to see what Patrick saw in him. He saw a man getting uncomfortably close to middle age, who had spent most of his life running away from people, from commitment, and from the chance at a lasting happiness. He'd given up all hope of finding someone who was willing to look past his myriad of flaws and give him a chance to show that he had so much love to give, he just wasn't quite sure how that whole love thing worked.

And then Patrick had come into his life. Solid, dependable, buttoned down Patrick. He was the Ying to David's Yang and despite their many differences, they complemented one another, each bringing a strength to the table to offset the other's weakness.

David tended to say whatever was on his mind, tactfulness be damned. If he had an opinion on something, people were going to hear about it. Patrick on the other hand, tended to play his cards closer to his vest. Sometimes, too close.

He'd kept Rachel from him, which had nearly caused David to walk away from the best thing that ever happened to him. And now this. This was a big one, another big secret Patrick had kept tucked safely away and one that a year ago David wasn't sure he could have forgiven. But now he had a little more perspective. He was a little older, and hopefully a little wiser. He knew Patrick better now, and knew that despite the fact that he felt like his heart had just been steam-rolled, Patrick hadn't kept this from David with the explicit intention to hurt him. That didn't mean that they weren't going to have a long, hard talk one day about Patrick and his secrets. But today was not that day.

David had a good 15 years of living in the open, and Patrick was brand new at this. Everything about their relationship had been new to Patrick, and this was one area in which David knew he had let Patrick down. He should have talked to Patrick about coming out, shared his own experience, offered love and support, and above all assured Patrick that he could have all the time in the world if he needed it. David had known about his sexuality for a long time before he'd been able to talk to anyone about it, and Patrick had only realized his own queerness at nearly 30 years old. David understood how confusing that must be and he vowed to do whatever he had to to get Patrick through today.

Satisfied that his appearance was the best it was going to get for now given the circumstances, David nodded at his bedragled reflection. He needed to make a few stops before he stopped in to see Patrick at lunch. He checked the time on his phone and thought that if he and Patrick were about to have the conversation they needed to have, he was going to need some pizza to get through it. And maybe some wine...

He shook his head. The wine would have to wait. He would take care of Patrick, take care of his parents, get the party going and then... Mother of God he was going to need a big fucking glass of wine.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I am working on more chapters for this one, but please don't expect multiple chapters/stories to be posted all on one day to become a regular thing for me. I'm only human :)


	3. Stevie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Um... do you want to ta..."
> 
> "No, I don't want to talk about it," David cut her off sharply. "I feel like I've been talking about it and thinking about it and crying about it all day, and right now I would just like to drink some wine with my best friend and not talk about it."
> 
> "Right," Stevie said, sipping at her own wine. "So, just to be clear, because you're being sooo vague right now," she shot him a side-eyed glance and he had the good grace to look chagrinned. "You don't want to talk about it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Stevie was drastically under-used in this episode and I thought who better for David to turn to for help processing the day's events and maybe even getting a few things off his chest.
> 
> I think I like writing for Stevie and David... this was really fun. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Stevie glanced appreciatively around the room, more impressed than she would ever let on to David at the transformation he'd accomplished. The usually garish cafe interior was aglow with beautiful paper lanterns on each table and strands of fairly lights hung from the ceiling, casting the space normally awash in fluorescent lighting into something much softer and far more romantic.

David had definitely pulled some major strings; he'd made a deal with the cafe's owner to rent the space, and been granted permission to hire a private caterer in exchange for a hefty discount on some of the fresh cheese and vegetables for sale at Rose Apothecary. It had been a vary savvy decision, as for the first time in recent memory, the food being served at Cafe Tropical was actually edible. He'd even hired a bartender so that Twyla could have the night off from serving customers and actually enjoy the party, although she had agreed to stay and help with the clean up afterward.

Stevie could see that Patrick's parents - currently engaged in a very one-sided conversation with Ray - were suitably overwhelmed with the offbeat residents of the town. Everyone was so eager to meet them and share stories of Patrick and his new life in Schitt's Creek.

Stepping up to the bar, Stevie ordered a beer and waited while the bartender retrieved one from the fridge and popped the cap for her. Mr. Brewer sidled up to the bar beside her and ordered two glasses of white wine. Twyla overheard him and rushed to the bar.

"Oh, there's some Zhampagne in the fridge in the back," she said to the bartended. She turned to Mr. Brewer. "It's left over from my cousin's early parole party," she explained excitedly. "I was saving it for a special occasion, and I can't think of a better reason to pop it open!"

"Oh, um. Sure," Mr. Brewer replied, and Twyla hurried behind the bar to grab the bottle for him. "Thank you."

Twyla appeared from the back and popped the top of the Zhampagne, pouring it into two long-stemmed flutes. Mr. Brewer watched in barely concealed horror as she dropped a raisin into each glass before pushing them toward him with a sunny smile and heading back to the party.

"To release the bubbles," Stevie offered by way of explanation at his confounded expression.

"Ah. Of course," he chuckled nervously. "Silly me."

"I'm Stevie," she said, holding out her hand.

"Clint Brewer," he replied, taking her hand in his and pumping it once before recognition dawned on his face. "Oh... Sally Bowles!" he exclaimed warmly. "We've heard a lot about you!"

"Oh God," Stevie groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Unfortunately, it's all true."

Clint laughed good-naturedly and they both glanced warily at the glasses of Zhampagne on the counter which, Stevie was amused to see, had already lost most of their fizz.

"You know, I'm sure David brought some of the good stuff over from the store," she said. "You don't actually have to drink that."

"Oh no," he waved off the offer. "We don't want to be a bother. David has already done so much." He watched the raisins slowly sink pathetically to the bottoms of the glasses and sighed. "Maybe later when we have a chance to sit down with the boys."

The boys.

For some reason, Mr. Brewer referring to David and Patrick as 'The Boys' absolutely tickled Stevie pink.

"I'll make sure to set one aside," she offered. "For you and the boys."

Clint smiled, picking up the glasses and nodding back to where his wife and son were now chatting animatedly with Roland and Jocelyn. "I'd better get back. It was good to meet you, Stevie."

"You too, Mr. Brewer."

Stevie leaned back against the bar, taking a long pull on her beer, and smiled at the clusters of people scattered throughout the cafe. Patrick and his parents had moved on to talk with some of the guys from his baseball team, Mr. and Mrs. Rose were in a booth with Bob and Gwen, and Alexis and Ted were canoodling in a back corner, lost in their own little world.

There was only one other person who, like herself, was off on his own. She downed the last of her beer and set the empty bottle down on the bar.

"Shame eating already?" she asked, approaching the buffet table and nudging David with her elbow.

"Mmm," he hummed his assent through a mouthful of crab cake.

"Never tried it myself," she said, peering at his overly full plate then smiling up at him. "When I have too much to drink, I prefer to make out with whatever random person happens to be nearby."

"Mmm hmm," David swallowed and nodded his head, that playful half-smile tugging at his lips. "No, I remember."

"Haven't had enough to drink yet tonight," she continued, holding out her empty hands to indicate the lack of booze, "So you're safe for now."

"Good to know," he replied with a soft chuckle. "Me either. And there is nothing fun about shame eating when you're sober."

Stevie nodded solemnly. "Wish there was something we could do about that," she lamented. "If only we knew someone that owned a store that just so happened to carry our favourite wine."

"It is a conundrum," David agreed somberly, setting down his plate. "Fortunately, I know a guy."

Taking Stevie by the elbow, he guided her around the bar and through the kitchen. Opening a cabinet near the back office, he withdrew a a box bearing the Rose Apothecary emblem and pulled out two bottles of wine.

"Were we thinking red or white tonight?"

"Oh, definitely red," Stevie replied, tapping the bottle with her finger. "I have a feeling we're both into red in a big way these days."

"We are fond of the red," David mused, tucking the white wine back into the box and returning it to the cabinet.

"Even when it drives us crazy and makes us want to scream and pull out all of our hair?" she asked.

David paused, smiling down at the bottle in his hand. "Even then," he replied softly.

He stood and headed toward the cafe's back door. Stevie grabbed two large, clean tumblers and ducked under his arm as he held the heavy door open for her. They emerged into the alley behind the cafe where the Rose's car was parked. David took the glasses from Stevie, allowing her to climb onto the hood and get settled with her back leaning against the wind sheild. She reached out and took the wine and glasses from him while he clambered inelegantly up beside her.

Reaching into his pocket, David withdrew the folding corkscrew keychain Stevie had bought him after their ill-fated trip to Elm Falls to see the Cherry Blossoms. It had been her feeble attempt at an apology for tricking him into coming with her and then abandoning him in the hotel bar while she enjoyed a grown-up sleep over with Emir. He unfolded the corkscrew and made quick work of removing the cork and pouring two very generous - to the point of brimming - glasses of wine, balancing the two thirds empty bottle on the hood between them.

Stevie raised her glass to make a toast. "Here's to... Oh my God..." She was momentarily stunned into silence as she watched David tip his head back and down the entire contents of his glass in one, long go.

"Fuck me," she breathed, impressed. And a little concerned.

"Yeah, I did that already," David replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Remember?"

"Um... are you okay?" she asked, watching as David poured the rest of the bottle's contents into his formerly empty glass.

"I'm fine," came his terse reply. He took a more normal sized sip. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Ooookay..." Stevie glanced at him askance. "Um... do you want to ta..."

"No, I don't want to talk about it," David cut her off sharply. "I feel like I've been talking about it and thinking about it and crying about it all day, and right now I would just like to drink some wine with my best friend and _not _talk about it."

"Right," Stevie said, sipping at her own wine. "So, just to be clear, because you're being _sooo _vague right now," she shot him a side-eyed glance and he had the good grace to look chagrinned. "You _don't _want to talk about it?"

She saw the corner of David's mouth twitch before he pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Mmm mmm," he hummed. "Nope."

"Okay," Stevie said with a lighthearted shrug. "So we'll just sit out here, drinking our wine and talking about anything except what's bothering you."

"Yup."

"While all of your friends and family are inside enjoying the beautiful party that you spent months planning..."

"Uh huh."

"And celebrating your boyfriend's birthday..."

"Mmm hmm."

"And meeting the in-laws..."

"Kay, we're not doing 'in-laws'," David corrected with a grimace, making air quotes around the offending words.

Stevie gave him a sidelong glance. "Yet."

"Ugh!" he scoffed at her and rolled his eyes. "I said I didn't want to talk about it!"

"About what?" Stevie pressed, feigning innocence.

David let out an exasperated sigh and sat up, leaving Stevie staring up at his back from her reclined position against the wind sheild.

"He goes to tax seminars," he said quietly; so quietly that Stevie wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

"I'm sorry? Who does what?"

"Patrick," he said, shifting on his backside so he was more or less facing her, his eyes focused on the half-empty glass in his hand as he slowly swirled the contents.

"Mkay," Stevie puzzled. "So Patrick goes to tax seminars. And that's a bad thing? Or... Oh God, that's not a euphamism for some weird sex fetish, is it?"

David snorted into his glass as he took a sip.

"Audit me, Mr. Tax Man," Stevie wheezed with laughter. "I promise to show you all of my... _deductions_."

David pressed his lips into a hard line, but his dark eyes danced with amusement as Stevie collapsed in a fit of giggles.

"You're funny," he deadpanned.

"So I've been told," Stevie concurred, wiping her eyes and grinning at David. She slid her arm through his, their elbows joined at the crook and put her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry," she sighed, trying to centre herself once again. She sensed that David had been about to unburden himself of his troubles and she didn't want him to think she was laughing at him in a truly vulnerable moment. "I'm sorry David," she said again. "You were saying?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "When Patrick doesn't know how to do something, he finds someone who knows more than him and asks," he explained.

"Okay," Stevie nodded, encouragingly.

"When he realized he didn't know enough about small business taxes, he didn't just sit on the problem and hope it worked itself out. He called someone who knew more about it than he did and asked for their advice. He signed up for tax seminars. He bought book after book after book on ways to be more efficient with our taxes."

Stevie furrowed her brows, watching him as he tried to piece together what he wanted to say.

"When the faucet in his apartment wouldn't stop dripping, he asked a guy on his baseball team who's dad used to be a plumber how to fix it." He paused and swirled his wine some more.

"David, I don't know what..."

"Why didn't he ask me?" David's voice was small, unsure.

"Ask you what?"

He scoffed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "If he was having such a problem coming out to his family, why wouldn't he ask someone who's been there?" he asked softly. "For everything else in his life, he finds someone who he knows can help him and he asks. But for this..." David lowered his head and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I was right there, Stevie. All he had to do was ask."

"David..." Her heart ached as she noticed the wetness on his lashes.

"Did he think I wouldn't help him? O-or that I would think it was beneath me?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "I've been there! I know how hard it is to..." his voice caught on his throat and he coughed to clear it. "I had to go through all of that, all on my own, and I was so scared and felt so alone. I didn't want it to be that way for him."

Stevie and David had had some pretty deep conversations over the years. But she'd never heard him talk about what it had been like for him to come out. She'd always just assumed it had been easy for him. He was so sure of who he was, and she realized that she'd made the mistaken assumption that he'd always been that way.

"I thought he told them a long time ago. He let me believe that for so long. I had no idea..." he shook his head sadly and Stevie took his hand in hers and gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. "We've been together for almost two years and now I find out that I've been his dirty little secret this whole time. Fuck!" he muttered, swiping at his eyes.

Stevie had no idea what to say or do in that moment. She knew he David had a thing about secrets. He'd been kept in the dark too many times by people in his past - ex-partners who cheated on him, stole from him, used him or took pictures of him without his consent or permission. His parents who had shadow-funded his entire career without his knowledge - and that he gave very few people a second chance at hurting him.

"Okay, David," Stevie began tentatively. "I am going to tell you something, and I don't want you to get mad."

He cocked an eyebrow at her and frowned. "I make no promises," he said warily.

Stevie took a bracing gulp of her wine. "When you first moved to town, do you know what I thought the first time I met you?"

David sniffed haughtily. "Obviously," he replied. "You thought, 'who is this impeccably attired, devastatingly handsome man with a penchant for cashmere who keeps bugging me about towels? And how soon can I get into his pants'?" He grinned deviously at her and she smiled in response. He continued with a self-deprecating shrug. "In all honesty, I'm fairly sure you thought I was some kind of circus freak."

"You're wrong," Stevie said. "I thought you were the most self-assured person I'd ever met and I wished I had the confidence to be more like you."

David scoffed, disbelieving. "That's not... y-you didn't..."

"You showed up in this little backwater town and had the guts to wear whatever you felt like wearing, and say whatever you felt like saying..." She shook her head in awe. "You knew exactly who you were and you weren't going to let anyone make you feel bad about it."

"Stevie, I-I'm not... I mean..." Colour rose to his cheeks and he turned his face away.

She grabbed his arm and gave it a shake, causing him to turn bring his gaze back to her. "You were so unapologetically you," she said firmly, "And I thought you were so brave and cool... and I thought that you made it look so easy and..." she swallowed, hoping that David would take the sentiment the right way, the way that she meant it. "I thought that it must have always been that easy for you."

She could see the muscles in David's jaw working and he screwed his lips up into a tight little bow, his eyebrows drawn together sharply. "It wasn't easy, Stevie," he said, his voice laced with emotion. "It was really fucking scary and hard."

"I'm so sorry, David," she said, resting her head against his shoulder once more.

"Do you think..." David began, pausing to clear his throat, "That maybe Patrick... that he, um..."

"Thought the same as me?" Stevie finished for him and he nodded. "Maybe. You should ask him." She heard David sigh and he leaned into her, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

They sat in thoughtful silence for a few minutes, both lost in their musings. David adjusted his position on the hood of the car and Stevie wondered if his backside was getting as cold and uncomfortable as hers was. She peered over at David's face. His features had lost some of the sharpness from moments earlier. He must have felt her looking at him because the corners of his eyes crinkled like they did when he was about to smile.

"So you thought I was cool?"

"I did," she said. "I still do."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I thought you were a hill billy," he said with barely contained mirth. "I still do."

"Suck a dick," Stevie laughed and gave him a playful shove.

"Oh, I plan on it," he shot back, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"I take it back," Stevie grumbled, biting her lip to hide her smile. "You're not cool at all. You're an asshole."

"Uh, and you're best friends with an asshole, so what does that make you?"

They locked eyes for a moment before they burst out laughing.

"It's goddamn freezing out here," Stevie exclaimed, heaving herself up off the car.

"I need more wine," David said, peering into his nearly empty glass. He looked at Stevie across the hood of the car. "Warmest regards," he said, raising his glass.

"Best wishes," she replied, lifing hers likewise. They tipped their heads back and emptied their glasses, David grabbing the empty bottle from the hood of the car and heading to the back door. "Time for some shame eating?" Stevie asked.

He held the door open for her and shook his head. "No, I think it's time for me to start playing the gracious host and make nice with -"

"The in-laws?" Stevie offered magnanimously. The look he gave her could have peeled paint.

"Here," she said, pausing by the cabinet where she'd seen him stash the wine earlier. She reached in and held out the bottle of white to him. "Mr. and Mrs. Brewer were looking for some good white wine earlier. I'm sure they'd love it if you'd share it with them."

David pursed his lips, accepting the white and setting both it and his empty glass and the bottle of red down on the counter. He put his hands on Stevie's shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

"Thank you, Stevie," he said before he pulled her into a hug. She smiled against his shoulder and wrapped her ams around his waist. "I love you, Stevie. You know that, right?"

Suddenly finding herself unable to form words, Stevie squeezed her arms tighter around him, hoping that he knew that it meant she loved him too.

* * *


	4. Patrick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick's POV
> 
> I have to apologize for taking so long after the first three chapters were up so quickly. I knew I wanted to wrap up with Patrick’s chapter, but he was being extremely uncooperative. 
> 
> I managed to get him to see reason, and I hope you like the result.

* * *

Patrick watched the faces of his parents as they met the people who had come to mean so much to him; Ray, Ronnie, Mr. and Mrs. Rose, Stevie, Twyla, Jocelyn and even Roland. He had wanted this for so long, but had no idea how to make it happen. He'd been too afraid to take that step, to allow his parents into the new life he'd made for himself.

_Correction_. The new life he and David had made for themselves. He felt ashamed now, for doubting his parents. He'd known, deep down, that they would support him and love him no matter what. But he'd done some research online on coming out, and read time and time again how people had expected love and acceptance from family members, only to be shunned, thrown out, and forgotten. So he'd put it off. Every time he chickened out, he'd tell himself that he'd do it next time. It was always next time.

Thanks to David, next time had come a lot sooner than he had expected. And although Patrick had spent the majority of the afternoon hiding in his apartment having a series of mild panic attacks, he was a little sad it was over. His parents had, of course, been so understanding. And not really shocked, if Patrick was honest with himself. He didn't want to say that he was disappointed at their reaction, but it was almost as if... 

Nah. Nope. There was no way they had figured it out ahead of time.

"So... where is your young man?" Marcy asked, giving Patrick a playful wink and jolting him from his thoughts.

"Uh..." Patrick looked around.

He'd seen David earlier by the buffet table, but he wasn't there now. He noticed that Stevie was also conspicuously absent and he smiled. The two of them were probably out back sharing a joint, or hiding in the back office, neither of them particularly comfortable with large gatherings of people.

It was just another incongruous layer to David's personality that Patrick found endlessly fascinating. David loved planning parties; he loved breathing life into an idea and seeing that idea blossom into something real and tangible, as he had tonight. But as much as David loved bringing together an event like this, he absolutely hated attending them. If he was forced to make an appearance he often kept to himself or found a quiet corner to hide.

At first, Patrick had found it hard to reconcile the David he had first met -confident, coiffed, opinionated and always impeccably dressed - with the rather shy and insecure (albeit disarmingly charming and heartbreakingly sincere) person beneath. 

Patrick now understood that after a childhood of being denied the affection and attention he so desperately craved from his family, David had carefully curated a look and an air about himself that caused - no, demanded - that people take notice of him. Unfortunately, once he had their attention, David wasn't always sure what to do with it.

"I was actually beginning to wonder that myself," he said. More recently during these types of gatherings they would check in with one another. David understood that Patrick was a social person and liked to mingle, and Patrick understood that these types of social situations often made David uncomfortable. But tonight, after greeting Patrick and handing him off to his parents, David had all but disappeared.

"Why don't you guys get some food and find a seat," he said. "I'll go and see if I can find David."

He was about to step away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Um, Patrick. Aren't you going to introduce me?"

He turned and saw Alexis, who was smiling eagerly at him. He opened his mouth to protest, or maybe to begin the introductions. He hadn't really decided. But Alexis beat him to it. 

"I am Alexis," she said, holding her hand out palm down, as if she expected it to be kissed. "David and Patrick's life coach, and David's sister."

She winked at him and he smiled in return, watching as his father took Alexis's fingers in his larger hand and awkwardly shook.

"Alexis! How lovely to meet you!" Marcy said, taking her turn to grasp Alexis's fingers and give them a weird little jiggle. "We hear you've been a big part of making the store such a success." 

Alexis beamed at Patrick and he didn't have the heart to tell her that his mother was just being kind. He thought he had maybe mentioned Alexis helping out with the launch of their website, but aside from that... 

"_Patriiiiick_!" Alexis squealed, giving him that weird, two-eyed wink she sometimes did when she was really and truly pleased. She turned to Marcy and Clint. "Your son is just the most adorable little button-face," she declared, earning slightly baffled looks from his parents. "And he is like, the best thing ever for my brother." She poked Patrick’s nose affectionately with the tip of her finger. "He's like, way less of a nightmare now, so thank you, Patrick."

"Um, you're welcome? I guess?" he said, with a roll of his eyes. "But, um... it's not very fair to call David a nightmare..." He nodded toward his parents, hoping Alexis would pick up on his subtle hint. He wanted them to like his boyfriend, not be tainted by Alexis's rather overly dramatic version of him. But as always, subtlety was lost on Alexis.

"You just don't see it any more," she said knowingly. "Just because you're in love with him doesn't make him any less of a nightmare for everyone else."

Patrick's eyes went wide, and it was then that Alexis seemed to grasp what she had just said, and that perhaps she had spoken out of turn. "Um... and by love, I just mean, like... as in... so, like, not romantical-type feelings, but like... maybe a brotherly kind of... um..." She frantically twisted a strand of hair between her fingers as she babbled on.

"We know about the boys, dear," Marcy finally said, interrupting Alexis's uncomfortable stream of verbosity. She gave her son a pointed look. "Well, at least we knew about them dating. No one told us yet about the _love_."

Patrick could feel his face getting hot, and he knew his ears and cheeks were probably turning a very unflattering shade of pink right now.

"I'm sure he was just trying to break us in gently," Clint said, giving his son a supportive wink and sliding an arm around his wife's shoulders. "It's a lot for us to take in in one day."

"Um, so I should go," Alexis said, shooting an apologetic grimace in Patrick's direction and flapping her hands in the general vicinity of… somewhere else. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs... um... Patrick's parents!" she called out over her shoulder. "Byeeee!"

Patrick grinned sheepishly at his parents. "So..."

"So," his father said, eyes crinkled in a smile. "Anything else you'd like to tell us, son?"

"Um..."

"So you and David are not _just_ business partners," Marcy said, her eyes twinkling. "And you're not _just_ dating. And he's not _just_ your boyfriend." 

"Um. No. He is all those things," Patrick said quietly. "Um, can we sit? For like a few minutes?"

He lead his parents back to the booth they had sat in when they'd first arrived, where he'd told them he was gay, and had been in a relationship with the man they had been lead to believe was just his business partner for the better part of two years. 

"Sweetheart?" Marcy asked, reaching for his hand across the table. "Is there something... I mean, we were just teasing. We're so happy that you have love in your life again. O-or... for the first time." 

"We really do like him, son," Clint interjected. "And I'm sure we'll like him even more as we get to know him better."

Patrick tried to swallow, but somehow his mouth had gone very, very dry. He could really use a drink right about now. Instead, he tried again to clear his throat. "Um... it's just that, for a long time now, I've known that David... um... that he means more to me than, well, anyone..." He chanced a glance up at his parents and then back down at his hands. He couldn't do this if he had to look at his mother's eyes welling with joyful tears, or his father biting his lip to hold back his emotions. "Uh, so I love David, like... so much. And, um... I feel like he's... well, he's it. For me. Like, maybe… forever."

"Oh, sweetheart," Marcy gasped, her tears evident in her voice.

"Son, that's wonderful," Clint agreed, his words catching with emotion.

Patrick smiled at his parents across the table. "Thank you," he said shakily. "And, um... I'm sorry for n-not telling you. I wasn't... I just didn't know how..."

"You're telling us now," Marcy said, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. "That's all that matters, Patrick." 

"A little birdy told me you were looking for some decent wine and..."

Patrick looked up to see David nearing their table, a bottle of the Pinot Grigio from their store held in one hand and four long-stemmed wine glasses clutched precariously in the other. The smile on his face faltered and his brows furrowed with concern as he took in the tear-stained faces staring back at him.

"Um... so I'm clearly interrupting something," he said, setting the bottle and the glasses on the table. "So I'm just gonna leave this here, so..." He made to turn from the table, but Patrick reached out and caught his hand.

"Come join us, David," he said, lacing his fingers through David's, feeling his thick silver rings pressing into the soft skin between his own fingers. They felt sold and reassuring. He tugged gently on David's hand, pulling him into the booth beside him.

"Patrick was just telling us his good news," Marcy said, giving David a warm smile. “Well, your good news too, I suppose.”

"Oh?" David's tone was cautious.

"We are so happy for you both," Clint said resting his large palm atop David and Patrick's joined hands. 

"Oh," David repeated. He glanced sidelong at Patrick through lowered lashes. "Um... thank you." He shifted slightly in his seat, turning slightly toward Patrick. "Everything okay?" he asked in hushed tones.

"Everything is perfect," Patrick replied. And without thinking about where they were, or who was sitting in the booth across from them, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against David's. He felt him stiffen slightly, then relax against Patrick's lips. He tasted like that really good red wine they sold in the store. And crab cakes. And mint lip balm. He tasted divine, and if Patrick hadn't been very aware of their audience he would have allowed himself to sink very deeply and contentedly into David's mouth. But there was a time and a place, and this was not it.

"Mmmmm," David sighed contentedly as Patrick pulled back. He watched as David sat for a moment, his eyes closed, onyx lashes fluttering against his cheeks and the corner of his mouth quirking upward in that beautiful half-smile that melted Patrick’s insides every single time. Then he opened his eyes, his dark irises sparkling with amusement. "And here I was trying to keep my distance so I didn't do something like that to you in front of your parents."

Patrick grinned back at him. "I love you David," he said simply. 

David's eyes danced between Patrick's face and his parents across the table. He smiled shyly back at Patrick. "Love you too." 

Clint cleared his throat. "Well, this seems like as good a time as any for a toast," he said, grabbing the bottle and beginning to tear away the foil wrapped around the neck. He smiled when David handed over his corkscrew keychain and proceeded to twist the cork out of the bottle, pouring four generous glasses . "To our boys," he said fondly, holding his glass aloft. "And to love." 

Patrick raised David's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles before he brought his own glass up, tapping it lightly against his father's. "To love."

* * *

"Okay, honey. We really have to go," David murmured in Patrick's ear. "Twyla has been more than patient."

Patrick responded by tightening his grip around David's back and pressing his face further into his neck. He knew David was right, and that Twyla had given them their five minute warning over fifteen minutes ago. But he just didn't want this perfect night to end.

"Come on," David said, carefully disentangling himself from Patrick's embrace, and earning a disgruntled huff from his boyfriend. 

"But it's my birthday!" Patrick protested.

"Not anymore it's not," David said, pointing at the clock over the counter. "It's after midnight. And that means everything isn't all about you anymore." He winked at Patrick and took his hand, tugging him toward the door. "Thank you, Twyla. You're a gem," he said, blowing her an air kiss. He nudged Patrick with his elbow.

"Thank you, Twyla," Patrick dutifully parroted.

"You're welcome, Patrick," she smiled, albeit tiredly. "Happy birthday!"

Outside the cafe, the night was beginning to cool. As their steps turned toward Patrick's apartment, he decided that the slight chill in the air was a totally unnecessary and very welcome excuse to cuddle with his boyfriend while they walked. Patrick looped David's arm across his shoulders and tucked himself into his side, his arm sliding around to David's hip. He let his hand find it's way up under the hem of David's sweater and looped his thumb through his belt loop.

David pressed a kiss to his temple, and Patrick could feel the smile against his skin. "You really had a good time?"

"I really did."

"And your parents?"

"Already love you more than they love me."

David scoffed, but pressed another smiling kiss against Patrick's temple.

They walked in silence for a few blocks.

"Patrick?"

"Hmmm?"

He could feel David's fingers toying with the seam at his shoulder; something he did when he was anxious. "Are you disappointed in how it all... I mean, I know it's not how you probably wanted, but..."

Patrick stopped walking. David, unaware, stumbled when he tried to keep moving forward, but Patrick stilled his momentum, tugging him back into his arms.

"David, the party was wonderful," Patrick said, moving so he was standing directly in front of his boyfriend. He placed a hand on each of David's shoulders, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. "Now, either you're fishing for compliments, or there's something else that's bothering you.” 

David bit his lip, momentarily dropping his gaze to his feet. When he raised his head, Patrick was surprised to see what looked unnervingly like worry flickering in his eyes. 

"W-when I came out to my family," he said, his hands coming up to toy with the buttons of Patrick's shirt, "It took me a really, really long time to figure out how to do it, and what to say."

"Okay." Patrick brought his hands inward along David's shoulders, his thumbs now skimming the bare skin of his neck.

"Um... it wasn't easy for me. But I... I got to do it my own way, in my own time. On my terms, and no one else's."

"Mmhmm." Patrick continued his gentle, soothing circles on David's neck. He could feel the tension beneath David's skin slowly beginning to melt away.

"And I-I'm just afraid that... well... um..." He stared beseechingly at Patrick. "Are you upset that I took that away from you?” 

Patrick blinked increduously. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Oh, David," he sighed. He took his boyfriend's face in his hands and tilted his head down so he could press a kiss to his forehead, another to the tip of his nose, and finally to his lips. Then Patrick wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled his face into David's neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne. It was always so soothing, so grounding. "It's my own fault that we all ended up in this situation," he murmured against David's skin. "I should have told you... I never meant... I know how you feel about secrets."

He heard David sigh, felt the puff of air against his shoulder, felt his arms wind around him, pulling him tight. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly. 

"I was embarrassed," Patrick whispered, knowing his voice was barely audible, muffled as it was in the crook of David's neck.

"Hmmm?" David asked, his hand slowly sliding up and down Patrick's spine. "I'm sorry, honey. I couldn't hear you."

Patrick lifted his face from the safety and warmth of its hiding place where David's neck met his shoulder. "I was embarrassed."

"Oh." He felt David stiffen, the gentle motion of his hands ceasing abruptly.

"Not of you!" Patrick hurried to explain, pulling back to gather David's face in his hands once more. "God, David. Never of you.” 

David's eyes searched his and he nodded his head, apparently satisfied that what he saw reflected there was the truth. "Come on," he said, taking Patrick's hand in his. 

"Where are we..."

"I don't know about you," David said, tugging Patrick alongside of him, "But I'm feeling a little bit exposed, and I'm guessing you are too -" He turned to Patrick, who nodded in agreement. "And I think we should finish this conversation somewhere more private. Where we can sit, and I can hold you properly." 

They walked in silence the last few blocks to Patrick's apartment. Once inside, David got Patrick seated on the couch before he toed off his shoes and padded in sock feet into the kitchen. Pulling down two wine glasses and a bottle of the red they both loved from their store, he poured them each a glass.

"Here," he said, handing one glass to Patrick and taking a seat on the couch beside him. Patrick watched him take a sip, not sure how to re-start their conversation. But David beat him to it.

"You said you were embarrassed," he said, his eyes brimming with concern. "If not me, then what were you embarrassed about?"

Patrick sighed. "I... it's hard to explain," he said, biding his time by taking a long sip of his wine.

"Take all the time you need," David said, a hand placed comfortingly on Patrick's knee. "I'm not going anywhere."

Patrick took a deep breath and brought his gaze back up to David's face; the face that he loved so much. "I feel like... like I should have figured all of this out years ago," he tried to explain. "For so long I just thought that I was broken, and that my life would just be less than everyone else's." David's lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but thought better of it, letting Patrick continue uninterrupted. "I'd hear love songs on the radio and wish that I could feel even a fraction of the emotions I heard in those songs. But it just... never happened for me. And I thought it never would. And I was beginning to be okay with that."

He took another bracing sip of his wine. "I called it off with Rachel, because she deserved someone better than me, someone who wasn't half-assing a relationship with her." He chewed on his lip and looked up at David. "And then I met you and... holy shit, David. You changed everything for me. _ Everything _." He set his glass down on the table and cupped David's face in his hands, gently stroking the pads of his thumbs across David's rough stubble. "All those songs suddenly made sense to me. You made me feel things that I had never, ever felt before. You made me feel really alive for the first time in my life."

David's eyes were pools of dark, shining tears. He took a shaky breath. "I'm so happy you found me," he whispered. "For both our sakes. I can't imagine you going through life like that, Patrick. It breaks my heart. You deserve so much more than that." Taking Patrick's wrists in his hands, David turned his head, pressing a kiss to first one palm, then the other. "I love you so much." Patrick couldn't help but sigh at the intimate, loving gesture. But David was staring at him again, his expression still one of confusion. "But... why were you embarrassed?"

"David, I am 32 years old! 32!" Patrick exclaimed. "And I just felt like... so stupid," he ran his fingers agitatedly through his hair. "I mean, I should have figured it out so long ago, and to go to my parents in my 30s and suddenly tell them... it just seemed so... so..."

"Stupid?" David supplied, and Patrick nodded. David pressed his lips together, his brow creased. "K, so you do realize that there's like, no right way to come out, right?"

Patrick stared silently back at him, so David carried on. "It's not like there's a guidebook that we all get when we reach puberty that tells us what to do, or when to do it. It's different for everybody," David explained patiently. "Some people live in the closet their whole lives, only letting a handful of close friends or family members know their truth. And that's okay. Some people don't come out until they're much older than you. And that's okay too." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Patrick's temple, nuzzling into his hair. "I know how much you love your rules and guidelines, but there are literally no rules for this. I meant it when I said it's something very personal, and that you should only do it on your own terms. You set the rules you want to follow."

"I didn't know any of that," Patrick sighed.

"Well, you never asked, did you?" Patrick could hear the faint trace of bitterness in David's voice, followed by a wistful sigh. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm not upset with you. I-I'm upset with myself for not having this conversation with you sooner. I just assumed..."

"And I just let you assume." 

And there it was, out in the air between them. 

A wave of guilt washed over Patrick as he recalled the look on David's face that afternoon when he had finally pried the truth from Patrick. He had looked so hurt - hurt that Patrick hadn't trusted him with his heart; hurt that Patrick had been lying to him by omission for so long - and it had made Patrick burn with shame.

It wasn't that he had meant to keep it from David. It had simply never come up. Or - no, that wasn't totally accurate. When it had come up, Patrick had always managed to carefully sidestep the conversation. And then about a year ago David had casually mentioned that his mom had called while he was out on an errand and Patrick's heart had stuttered as he waited for David to elaborate. He longed to asked what they'd talked about, whether his parents knew or suspected. He'd searched David's face for a tell tale sign that he was upset, that at long last, the cat was out of the bag. But he'd just smiled at Patrick, pressing a kiss to his forehead before passing him the handheld phone and telling him to call his mother. 

Patrick had wanted to say something then, but couldn't figure out what words to use to tell the man he’d been pretty sure he was falling head over heels in love with that he hadn't told his family about them. Now, in hindsight, he knew that David would have understood. But in that moment Patrick hadn't been so sure. It had only been a few months since the whole Rachel fiasco, and he hadn’t been certain that David could handle another secret so close on its heels. So he'd pushed it from his mind, telling himself that he'd find a way someday soon to tell his family, and David would never have to know.

What a fantastically stupid decision that had been. And it could have all blown up in his face today, ruining everything David had worked so hard to bring together. If it had, Patrick would have had only himself to blame. Thankfully, his parents had been more accepting than he'd ever dared to dream. And David...

David had given him the best birthday present he'd ever received. He'd given him his family back, something he had been too cowardly to do on his own, or to even ask for the help he’d desperately needed to make it happen. And he'd done it not only because he knew how much it would mean to Patrick, but because David wanted to meet his parents. He wanted to meet his parents because his own family had come to love and accept Patrick, and he'd wanted that too, with Patrick's family. Meeting your boyfriend's parents is what you did when you were in a long-term committed relationship. Except that Patrick hadn't told his parents about his long-term committed relationship because he was afraid to tell them that the person he was madly in love with happened to be a man.

How many more times was he going to disappoint David? David had done nothing this past year but push himself out of his comfort zone, over and over again, only to have Patrick doubt him, or behave with such abominable insensitivity that it was a wonder that David hadn't simply up and left him.

David had wanted to move in with Patrick. David had wanted to move in with Patrick because Patrick had callously led him to believe that he wanted them to live together. And Patrick had seen the crestfallen look on his boyfriend's face when he'd explained that, no, the apartment was just for him. But David was welcome to visit.

David hated organized sports. _ Hated _ them. Like actively avoided them at all costs because he hated them so much. But he had put on a uniform and played baseball because Patrick had asked him to. And yes, there had also been a barbecue after, but Patrick was pretty sure the barbecue was only a small part of the reason David had agreed. Like 20% at the most. And David had suffered ridicule and jeering and doubt from everyone around him - including Patrick himself - but he had done it because Patrick had asked and he loved Patrick. And maybe 35% because of the barbecue.

David had done all these things and more. He'd done them because he loved Patrick, and that's what you did when you loved someone. You put yourself out there. You took risks. You made compromises. As complicated as David could be at times, he made it seem as if loving Patrick was the simplest thing in the world.

Patrick thought back to the day - which had turned into the night - that he and Stevie had pestered David about his inability to compromise. With sudden clarity, Patrick realized that since then, without being asked or cajoled, and so subtly that no one had even really noticed, David Rose had slowly become an expert at compromise. Oh, he was still ridiculously stubborn and maddeningly obnoxious about trifling little things. But when it came to the big things - the things that really mattered - he could teach a master class on how to compromise to make your partner feel like the centre of the universe.

And today, the like of which would previously have sent David flying off the handle in a fit of histrionics, he had spent his entire day untangling things. Making everything okay. Because he loved Patrick.

"Where'd you go?" David's whispered breath against his ear brought him back to the moment. Patrick blinked back the tears that he hadn't realized had sprung to his eyes.

"I love you so much," he said, leaning in, nuzzling once more into that safe space in the crook of David's neck. "You are the most amazing person, David. And I don't deserve you." 

"Okay..." David half sobbed, half chuckled. "I wasn't expecting that for an answer." He pulled Patrick as close as he could, practically onto his lap. "But I'll take it. On two conditions."

"Okay. What?" Patrick asked, pulling back slightly so he could look into David's eyes, take in his beautiful face. "What're the conditions?"

"You admit that you _ do _ deserve me," David said. "Or... like, we deserve each other."

Patrick nodded and leaned forward, eager to capture David's lips in a kiss. He was stilled by David's hand against his chest.

"There is one more condition."

"Oh. Um... okay."

"No more secrets." David's expression turned serious, his lips pinched into a tight knot and his brow furrowed. Patrick wanted to kiss the crinkled skin between his brows, lick away the tightness of his lips. "Promise me, Patrick. No more."

"No more," Patrick vowed solemnly. "I promise David. That was it. The last one." 

David eyes searched his again, and Patrick raised his hand, his thumb smoothing away the crease on his forehead. He leaned in and pressed his lips against David's which finally relented and softened, letting him in.

He sighed, happier than he'd been in longer than he cared to remember. Finally free of the burden he'd been carrying for so long, Patrick felt lighter than air. As he pressed his tongue into David's mouth, he knew he’d lied. He had one last secret. But it was one he didn't really think David would mind if he kept to himself for just a little while longer. It would take a bit of preparation, a little planning before he could share it with David, but he had an idea of just how he'd do it.

It would start with a hike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for your support! It’s been a thrill to get back into writing after so many years away. And to find a fandom that is so generous with their kindness is amazing. 
> 
> Much appreciated folks! 
> 
> Until next time  
DMcM

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are very welcome.


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